The Kingdom of Madya is a peaceful country located in the Northern Atlantic Ocean. One fateful night, the kingdom falls under attack and the only survivor of the royal family is Princess Idina Maria Odette Burlyon-Gotha. She quickly finds herself hi...
The squawk of seagulls flew overhead, waking me from a slumber that I did not consent to. I opened my wearied eyes, watching the ocean waves strive to cover me in its thick sea foam. My dark eyelashes blinked through white sand that my face was pressed into. I squeezed my eyes shut to get the last of the salt water out of them. I took a breath, feeling the sand cling to my dry salty lips and I dug my toes into thick, wet sand.
The warm waves engulfed my legs, leaving behind its sticky salty sea water to linger on my burning skin and soaking wet clothes. I yawned, making my ears pop and the sand to exfoliate my cheek. I propped myself up and could feel the loose sand sprinkle off my skin. I dipped my head down and scratched my sunburnt scalp, closing my eyes to avoid the dry sand that was falling out of my tousled hair.
I looked up again, greeted by an island that I did not recognize. I barely registered it, as I was too preoccupied trying to figure out how we got here. The hurricane blew us here perhaps? The storm was quite unforgiving, as if punishing us all for some sort of ungodly deed.
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I wasn't the only one washed up on this shore. Many of my crew-mates were sleeping on the soft sand. I rolled over to sit up, and clumps of wet sand fell out of my shirt. My shoulders were so tight I could barely move my sore arms. I saw that the ship had nearly beached itself onto the sandbank. I still wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, but upon first inspection the hull didn't look too damaged. The masts, however, were nearly gone. Due to the storm, we lost most of our provisions and we suffered major damage to our mast and main sails. The water seemed to be retreating, taking the Wench with it.
I stood up and meandered over to the rigging. My head felt like it was full of water. I rolled my aching shoulders back, making them crack and snap back into place. I should never have held onto that rope tighter once it broke from the ship. I had to walk through the water to get to it. My bare feet sunk into the wet sand. My boots must have fallen off sometime during the night. I glanced around, and there was no sight of Jack so I assumed that he was still on the ship. I grabbed a hold of the rigging and climbed up to the deck.
I felt sick. I always feel sick on the boat, but Jack said a gold earring on the left ear was said to prevent seasickness. I'm not quite sure if I believe it just yet. It could have been due to the hurricane, but I have yet to get used to the unforgiving sea. My stomach feels like it's part of the waves, and it often makes me give up the little amount of nutrients I can get.
I didn't immediately find Jack on the deck, just other members of the crew who were stirring awake. Many of them had red blistering skin, roasting under the heat of the hot Caribbean sun. I grimaced, and marched to Jack's cabin and opened the door without knocking.
Jack was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. As soon as he heard the door, he shot his head up after looking down at his map. His brown eyes gazed at me softly, then with surprise.
